I Wish We Had Rain
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: -"Oh Jesus..." He heard. The bathroom light shone at the end of the hall and Craig skittered towards it. He poked his head in the bathroom and nearly screamed.- Creek Fluff! Not what you think! Oneshot-y goodness!


**A/N: I lied. Here's some Creek fluff because I have no life. **

**Extra Note: Went on Tumblr and seen this; "****_South Park fandom: Craig and Tweek appeared together and both had a line of dialogue for twenty seconds holy shit they're dating_****." Perf. **

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Craig played some music while he cleaned his room, smooth coffeehouse rock that reverberated softly off the walls. He hummed along to the tune (Craig was an awful singer at best) and picked up his clothes to the beat. Lots of people expected or at least assumed the blue-clad boy to be a fan of heavy metal shit, but it was actually the opposite. Craig hated heavy metal. He hated the singers who wore too much makeup and had to scream to get their message across. He hated the crazy sporadic drum loops that any hyper three year old could smash out. He hated the guitar riffs that didn't even have a distinct tune.

Craig stepped back to inspect his newly freshened up room. He could imagine some poorly animated sparkles bordering the edge of his vision. With about three cans of Lysol he'd even managed to clear the air of it's usual reek. That scent being a mix of guinea pig and cigarette smoke. He frowned, squinting to check the time. It was only two thirty in the afternoon, and Craig hadn't even planned anything. He'd figured that cleaning his pigsty of a room would occupy his whole Saturday.

Craig blinked warily. He'd go and hang out with one of his few friends then. On the other hand, Clyde and he had gotten into a fight after the brunette had played another girlfriend for the umpteenth time. Craig had called him a '_fucking ungrateful whore with no respect for girls_' and a fight blossomed. That, and he was almost certain Wendy Testaburger was now stalking him. Feminist bitch. He contemplated going to Token's but he remembered that his whole family was taking a vacation in Fiji. Then he thought about Tweek, who never left the house unless forced. It was highly unlikely that Tweek was somewhere without him; the kid was straight up agoraphobic and he was probably worrying his cute little ass off about underpants gnomes.

Craig drifted. Maybe Tweek was brewing coffee, hips swaying slightly as he ungracefully stumbled from one side of his kitchen too the other. Maybe he was already sipping the caffeinated drink, biting his soft pale lip. He could be humming in satisfaction as the brew touched his tongue. Eyes would be half lidded and staring at Craig, just _begging_ him to go and-

Craig snapped back into reality, a red blush prominent on his face. Tweek's house it was.

It was late autumn and the breeze chilled his body. A light snow was already pestering the clear ground. Craig walked to Tweek's house and knocked on the door. When nobody answered, he experimentally jiggled the knob, and to his surprise, it opened easily. Tweek's house was always tidy. Little embroidered ducklings were prominent everywhere, and books were sorted by name and year of publication on the shelves. Richard, Tweak's father had once admitted that he and his wife were utter literary maniacs and they'd thought making their son's name a homonym was a hoot.

Craig didn't even know what a homonym was.

The raven haired boy carefully stepped up the stairs, not remembering to closing the door behind him. He didn't really see it as bad going into Tweek's house when nobody was there. What if Tweek was dead? His parents weren't home (this was inferred due to the car being absent from the driveway) and Tweek rarely enjoyed being alone.

Upon being at the middle step, Craig heard a soft humming noise, like something was vibrating. He instantly gulped and shook his head. As he slowly ascended the stairs, he heard a soft string of indecipherable utterances. The voice he recognized was Tweek's.

"Oh Jesus..." He heard. The bathroom light shone at the end of the hall and Craig skittered towards it. He poked his head in the bathroom and nearly screamed. In fact, he even only managed covered his mouth enough to muffle the sound slightly.

Tweek yelped in surprise, dropping the small humming object in his hand. It dropped to the floor next to his feet. Craig gawked at it.

"Tweek!" He snapped, shaking out of his daze. "What are you _doing?"_

Tweek shook rapidly and bit his lip. "I... I could ask you the same question!" He yelled.

Craig shifted awkwardly. "I sort of came in. You door's unlocked." He muttered, snorting. "Anyways, were you trying to cut off your hair?"

"Um- yes?" Tweek whimpered cautiously, tugging on the heap of blonde prominent on his head. It curled down his head in uneven cowlicks, medium in length and it kinked in every which way. The small boy sunk down to his knees to grab the electric hair trimmer.

Craig frowned. "Why?" He asked, cocking his head in genuine confusion. Craig was no expert on hair, but he knew that Tweek's was exceptionally attractive, even if it was unruly and disheveled. It shone in the artificial light, a beautiful pale gold that stuck out like a hedgehog. It looked like something from one of Tweek's prized anime DVD box covers. Craig even knew that it constantly smelled like coconuts- Tweek loved the aromatic shampoo.

"Because, man! It's ugly and it never works with me! That's a lot of pressure. I mean, keeping up with it is even difficult! It gets greasy if I don't shampoo _AND_ condition it every night, it won't work with hairspray, and do you even know how _expensive_ it is to treat the patches of hair I pull out?" Tweek rambled without a hitch, voice increasing with every passing moment. Craig snickered.

"Dude, that's the gayest thing I've ever heard." The raven chuckled, pointing at a flabbergasted Tweek Tweak.

"That's not funny!" Tweek yelped. "_Kevis_ costs like eighty dollars per bottle!" He added.

"Is that why you were trying to give yourself a buzzcut?" Craig inquired, still laughing.

"Yes! It's way too much pressure to keep up with!" Tweek smacked Craig lightly.

"But-" Craig paused to catch his breath. "I like your hair." He said, running his hand through the golden locks impulsively. He shuddered visibly. If you've ever pet the tummy of a well-groomed cat (albeit it doesn't claw the skin on your arms away), you'd understand how fluffy and silky Tweek's hair was. It flowed seamlessly through his fingers despite the curls and kinks. It smelled sweetly of coconuts and honeydew, and felt almost like liquid. Up to that point, Craig was certain his hair was exceptionally well groomed. But compared to the golden crown of hair on Tweek, it was awful.

"Holy shit." Craig whispered breathlessly, opening eyes he didn't remember closing. "You are never cutting this." He briefly imagined a Disney-like image of Tweek standing on jagged rocks by a foaming ocean in front of a sunset with long, flowing blonde hair going out behind him.

"Why not?" Tweek asked, almost angrily, snapping Craig out of his thoughts.

"Because it's fucking glorious." Craig said instantly. "I swear, I'm going to scalp you one day and keep this in my room so I can have it forever." He muttered, rubbing the tresses that met with the nape of his best friend's neck. Tweek squeaked in surprise.

"Kidding." Craig added. It seemed the blonde still wasn't accustomed to his sense of humor.

Tweek sighed and looked up, met with the intense blue eyes of Craig. Their eyes interlocked, hazel staring into blue. Impulse, Craig decided, led to good things for him. And he knew that in all of those corny, cheesy movies and even cornier books, that people kissed when they stared into each other's eyes. And then like, fireworks blasted off or it started raining on the couple. But despite that, his first impulse was to kiss Tweek.

And he didn't even realize he'd already ducked in and done it until he noticed that there was a soft tentative pressure on his own lips. His hands were already roaming the smaller boy's hips, feeling the prominent jutting bone through the fabric of jeans. Tweek's fingers had managed to sneak under Craig's hat and curl the ebony hair between them. The raven briefly wished they were in the shower so he could turn it on and have water pour down on them like the rain in those movies. Or he wished there could be some dramatic violin music in the background.

He pulled back, smiling sweetly. "I love you." He said (again on impulse).

"Who are you talking too; me or my hair?" Tweek said cheekily, grinning. His face was aglow with a shade of pink unknown to any artist.

Craig thought for a moment. "Both." He decided finally.

"Then I love you too." Tweek choked out softly. He put the hair trimmer away and smiled. "And I'll keep the hair." He added shyly.

And in the tree Wendy Testaburger was observing (stalking) Craig in, the enraged girl snapped a whole branch under her grip.


End file.
